Our mothers are both gone, resting in the earth they loved, next to the roaring waters of the creek. Melody's father Jace is gone, and Jasmine's father Lucian sleeps now, comatose as he slips away from us.
Our men are devastated, naturally, and our children and grandchildren heartbroken, but even amidst this, there is hope. Jasmine's daughter Phaedra turned 7 today, and we see her namesake grandmother's light in her eyes. It is the same with Melody's Mary, another redhead. These two, named long before their hair and eye colour was known and permanent, are the only two in both our villages to inherit their grandmother's vibrant red hair.
It brings joy to our hearts, even amidst this sorrow, to know that our mothers carry on in our daughters, that where they brought forth hope out of chaos, we bring peace out of that which was broken.
Friday, April 4, 2014
In Memoriam
Jace is gone, slipped away in Lena's arms early yesterday morning. We are all broken-hearted, of course, and Lena is devastated. She is the strongest woman I know, and today I have seen her break. The four of us are all 86, nearing 87, and Jace was the strongest, physically.
It was his heart that went, in the end-- the man with the biggest heart of all of us, and it killed him.
Lucian is taking his death hard. They were brothers, in spirit if not in actuality, and best friends. While Lena and I have led our world out of chaos, Lucian and Jace have supported us and been the reason we could do what we did for our families.
Lena is ready to go home, too, I know, and even I am weary.
We have spent our years well, and now that the father of the new world is asleep, perhaps it is our turn to rest, as well.
***
Lena passed this morning. She sat up in bed, and I came to her. She looked me straight in the eye, spoke clearly and fiercely. "Is it my time?" she asked, and I knew she wanted to hear a "Yes."
But I couldn't give it to her. She seemed so strong, so healthy.
Then Lena grabbed my hand, and I marveled that we had both lived to see our hands grow so weathered by the years. She placed it over her heart, and I felt its fierce beating, too fast to be sustained.
"My heart is giving out, love," she tells me, and there is no fear in her sharp green eyes. "Without my Jace, you knew it would. Tell my Melody to be strong. Tell your Jasmine to hold on. They are carrying our families now."
"Oh dearest friend," I wept. "Who will I be without you?"
"Who you have always been, my Phaedra," she tells me, a single tear sliding slowly down her cheek. "The mother of the world."
"No, Lena," I say, holding her hand to my heart instead so she can feel its steady beat. "That's you. It has always been you."
She is gone soon after, surrounded by children and grandchildren.
And in the corner of the room, Skye, the young mother we found three weeks back. She is pregnant again, now, and she holds her daugher's hand in hers. She does not cry at once, but I see her, later, in her husband's arms, shaking with sobs, and I remember how it was Lena who first held out her hand to help Skye to her feet in our world.
And I know.
I'm ready to follow Lena home.
It was his heart that went, in the end-- the man with the biggest heart of all of us, and it killed him.
Lucian is taking his death hard. They were brothers, in spirit if not in actuality, and best friends. While Lena and I have led our world out of chaos, Lucian and Jace have supported us and been the reason we could do what we did for our families.
Lena is ready to go home, too, I know, and even I am weary.
We have spent our years well, and now that the father of the new world is asleep, perhaps it is our turn to rest, as well.
***
Lena passed this morning. She sat up in bed, and I came to her. She looked me straight in the eye, spoke clearly and fiercely. "Is it my time?" she asked, and I knew she wanted to hear a "Yes."
But I couldn't give it to her. She seemed so strong, so healthy.
Then Lena grabbed my hand, and I marveled that we had both lived to see our hands grow so weathered by the years. She placed it over her heart, and I felt its fierce beating, too fast to be sustained.
"My heart is giving out, love," she tells me, and there is no fear in her sharp green eyes. "Without my Jace, you knew it would. Tell my Melody to be strong. Tell your Jasmine to hold on. They are carrying our families now."
"Oh dearest friend," I wept. "Who will I be without you?"
"Who you have always been, my Phaedra," she tells me, a single tear sliding slowly down her cheek. "The mother of the world."
"No, Lena," I say, holding her hand to my heart instead so she can feel its steady beat. "That's you. It has always been you."
She is gone soon after, surrounded by children and grandchildren.
And in the corner of the room, Skye, the young mother we found three weeks back. She is pregnant again, now, and she holds her daugher's hand in hers. She does not cry at once, but I see her, later, in her husband's arms, shaking with sobs, and I remember how it was Lena who first held out her hand to help Skye to her feet in our world.
And I know.
I'm ready to follow Lena home.
Lost
Jace.
My Jace.
Gone.
I know I should be grateful for the 86 years he spent by my side-- growing up next door for 16 years as my best friend, and for the next 70 years as my everything-- but all I feel is empty.
When I was 21 and pregnant, I thought the world was ending. Dying. I thought I would die, young and desperate, but at least in the arms of the man I loved more than my own life.
Instead, I brought hope, bore it in my body and gave birth onto the dying soil of the old world, ushering in the new.
We were the first, Jace and I, and then Phaedra and Lucian following, bringing twins into a world born of chaos.
And I know, I know, that my husband dies satisfied, with great hope in his heart. We have our 6 children, all happily married and close around us when he slipped from my grasp. We have over 20 grandchildren, 10 quite young, laughing and playing and bringing joy to Jace's heart until the end.
But now I am lost. I bore the world, I carried it on my shoulders, and I led our family out of the darkness, but without my beautiful, passionate man, I am tired.
I am lost.
I am ready to go home.
Oh, Jace, my Jace, I had always hoped to die first. And you told me, you whispered, "I'll see you in the morning," but I don't think it will ever be morning again, ever be light, without you by my side.
Jace, you were the reason I never lost hope. You made me the fiercest, the happiest, the strongest woman I could be.
And now my love, my Jace, I am ready to make the last, long journey, forever sorrowing that it is not with you by my side.
My Jace.
Gone.
I know I should be grateful for the 86 years he spent by my side-- growing up next door for 16 years as my best friend, and for the next 70 years as my everything-- but all I feel is empty.
When I was 21 and pregnant, I thought the world was ending. Dying. I thought I would die, young and desperate, but at least in the arms of the man I loved more than my own life.
Instead, I brought hope, bore it in my body and gave birth onto the dying soil of the old world, ushering in the new.
We were the first, Jace and I, and then Phaedra and Lucian following, bringing twins into a world born of chaos.
And I know, I know, that my husband dies satisfied, with great hope in his heart. We have our 6 children, all happily married and close around us when he slipped from my grasp. We have over 20 grandchildren, 10 quite young, laughing and playing and bringing joy to Jace's heart until the end.
But now I am lost. I bore the world, I carried it on my shoulders, and I led our family out of the darkness, but without my beautiful, passionate man, I am tired.
I am lost.
I am ready to go home.
Oh, Jace, my Jace, I had always hoped to die first. And you told me, you whispered, "I'll see you in the morning," but I don't think it will ever be morning again, ever be light, without you by my side.
Jace, you were the reason I never lost hope. You made me the fiercest, the happiest, the strongest woman I could be.
And now my love, my Jace, I am ready to make the last, long journey, forever sorrowing that it is not with you by my side.
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